Sickbed
by soraxtsuna123
Summary: Ponyboy gets pneumonia. One-shot. Request by botanicalTJ.


**Request by botanicalTJ.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders, nor do I know much about pneumonia. I'm sorry if the "pneumonia" displayed in this is wrong. This is probably way more dramatic than it actually is.**

**o-o-o**

He knew the risks and he ignored them. Ponyboy had been an avid smoker for a couple of years now, smoking way more than an average smoker in a day. He always told people that he didn't care about the health risks that came from doing it. Hell, he even convinced himself that he was never going to face any problems until he was old. He would deal with the consequences when he got there.

Well, smoking didn't cause what happened to him. So, he shouldn't blame it. All smoking did was make him more at risk.

It was really nothing, he had told himself afterward. Many people had gotten the virus already and came out just fine. But it wasn't like that at all. It wasn't nothing. The time that he was recovering from the virus was the most miserable time of his entire life.

It had all started with a sore throat. Ponyboy didn't think much about it. He thought that it would be over within a day or two, but it ended up getting worse over time.

The next red flag was when he was running during his track practice. It didn't take long before he knew that something was wrong. He was really in shape, but, for some reason, as he ran, he became breathless almost instantly. Breathless to the point where it was hard to breathe. No, that was an understatement. He felt like there were a thousand pounds pressing onto his lungs, making it almost impossible to ventilate.

He ran past the finish line, hearing his coach call out his time, although it sounded distant as veins ran across his vision. He planted his hands on his knees, face flush as he tried to catch his breath. He breathed fast, almost hysterically. Even though he was breathing so much, it didn't feel like he was getting much air at all. Why was it hard to breathe? What was going on?

He cleared his throat, trying his best to slow down his breathing, which alerted him to another clue of his descending health. What he noticed was how his breathing sounded different and not at all normal. It very raspy like something was blocking it. But what?

"Curtis, are you feeling okay?" he heard his coach ask.

Ponyboy nodded, swallowing thickly as he evened out his breathing. "I just…" he heaved, suddenly exhausted. "I just need to drink some water."

"Alright, take a water break."

After the young greaser got a drink of water from the fountain, he sat down in the shade. He still didn't feel much better. Frowning, he placed his hands on the back of his head to open up his airways, but it didn't help much, if at all.

It continued to get worse after practice. He still had a sore throat and all, but it became more than that. The coughing started while he was at his desk, finishing up his homework before he went to bed. Soda was there in the room too, lying down in the bed, waiting for him to finish.

"It's getting late, Pony," Soda informed him, watching his brother scribble away on the sheet of paper.

"I know, I know," Ponyboy answered, hands cramping up at the mere speed of his writing. "Just a bit more to go…"

He started to scribble even faster, anxious to finally get some sleep. However, he was stopped short by a cough that erupted from his mouth. It was small and quiet; nothing serious. It felt like a tickle in his throat. But then another cough happened, causing him to frown. He must be getting sick.

Another cough came out of his mouth, sounding raspy like his breathing. He coughed again and again like he was trying to get something out of him. Ponyboy bent forward, breathing becoming hard again.

"Jeez, Pony. You okay?" Soda asked worriedly.

Ponyboy shot him a thumbs up, continuing with the coughing fit. He wasn't able to answer him vocally

"Are you getting sick?"

"A bit," Ponyboy managed to get out before coughing again.

Soda got up to his feet, walking over to the door. "I'm going to get you some medicine, okay?"

Ponyboy nodded as Soda left. His brother returned quickly after, placing a comforting hand on his back. He set the medicine down in front of him and Pony scrambled to pick a pill up, plopping it into his mouth. He tried to swallow it down, but, right before he could do so, he felt a cough coming. Fortunately, before he could choke on the pill, he spat it out in his hands.

"It's okay, try again," Soda cooed, rubbing his back.

He tried again. This time he was successful. The pill slid down his throat smoothly, causing him to sigh out in relief. Afterward, he lied down in his bed, waiting for the medicine to knock him out. His eyelids slowly started to become heavier over time, and he let himself fall asleep.

When Ponyboy woke up again, it was early in the morning. His eyes snapped open as it felt like he was being suffocated. The first thing that he noticed upon waking was that practically no oxygen was reaching his lungs. He lurched forward, coughing violently.

As quickly and as silently as he could, Ponyboy swung his legs over the side of the bed, throwing off the blankets. He swiftly exited his bedroom to not risk waking up his brother from his coughing. Pony continued to cough as he rushed to the bathroom to grab more medicine. His face was turning red and it was getting increasingly harder to breathe as seconds passed by. His hands shook as he grabbed the cough suppressants. He didn't know if it would help him breathe again, but it would at least help with his coughing.

He placed a pill on his tongue, about to swallow it down. However, as it was about to slide down his throat, he coughed again, causing the pill to get lodged in it, resulting in him choking. In retaliation, he started to cough even more in an attempt to remove it. Each cough felt like he was being stabbed in the chest over and over again and it hurt like no other. He pressed one of his hands over his chest and wrapped the other one around the edge of the counter until they turned white. His eyes were open wide, tears sprouting from the corner of them. It was then that he realized that he was scared.

He couldn't breathe. His lungs were burning, and it felt like he was having a heart attack. Even though he was probably making the situation a lot worse than it actually was, he was scared that he was going to die.

Ponyboy's body lurched forward over the sink as the pill fell out of his mouth along with some vomit. There wasn't much that came out of him since he hadn't eaten anything in a while. His vision started to become blurry as he felt like his body wasn't allowing any oxygen to circulate inside of him. He tried to breathe in, but it only made him cough even more, blocking him from doing so.

The world around his started to spin as he fell to his knees. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe!

Suddenly, the door opened, and he could vaguely make out the silhouettes of his two older brothers.

"Ponyboy?" he heard Darry ask, sounding like he was a thousand miles away. Ponyboy opened his mouth to ask for help, but he found himself unable to do so. Instead, he looked at them pitifully, not caring about the tears that were falling down his face.

Hands were suddenly on him, pulling him every which way and he just wished that they would stop. He was already dizzy enough. His face was held in Darry's hand as the older greaser examined him.

"Christ, he's turning blue!" he heard Soda exclaim.

"Ponyboy, what's wrong?" Darry asked, trying his best to keep calm. "Are you having a hard time breathing?"

Ponyboy weakly nodded, gasping to get more air.

"What do we do?" Soda asked, biting his nails.

Darry lifted Ponyboy up into his arms. "He needs to go to a hospital," he declared, rushing to his vehicle. Soda followed right after him, jumping into the passenger's seat. Before they knew it, they were speeding towards the hospital, not caring about breaking any laws along the way.

**o-o-o**

Ponyboy was delirious when they arrived at the emergency room. He remembered being taken away and being sat up. At one point, something cold was being pressed against his back and he was told to take deep breaths. But, Ponyboy didn't remember much after that. He guessed he passed out or something.

The next time that Ponyboy woke up, he felt something in his nose. He slowly raised his hand to his face, feeling a breathing tube. What…?

"Ponyboy?" he heard Soda call out to him.

Pony's eyes fluttered open at the voice, first seeing the bright hospital ceiling. The next thing that he saw was his brothers who looked exhausted to the point where it seemed like they were going to pass out at any moment.

"What…" Ponyboy croaked, throat raspy as if he had lost his voice.

"You're awake!" Soda cried out in relief.

"You gave us quite a scare," Darry added, relaxing back in his chair.

"What happened?" Pony asked, trying to remember what happened.

"You passed out. You weren't breathing right and was turning blue. We had to take you to the hospital."

Wasn't breathing right? That's when everything that had happened hit Ponyboy.

"The doctor took your x-rays and gave you some antibiotics. They said you had pneumonia. Luckily, we caught it before the mucus buildup got too bad, but you still have to stay here until they say it's alright for you to leave."

"Do they know how I got pneumonia?" Ponyboy questioned.

"They said that you were at risk of it because of your smoking."

"What does smoking have to do with it?" He squinted his eyes suspiciously at his brother. He knew that Darry wanted him to stop or, at the very least, decrease how much he smoked, but that didn't mean that it was a major cause of him getting pneumonia… did it?

"Smoking breaks down defenses against it and weakens your immune system."

"But that doesn't mean—"

"You could have died, Ponyboy."

Ponyboy shut his mouth, clenching his blanket tightly. "I just thought I was sick… "

Soda placed a hand over his own, squeezing reassuringly. "What matters is that you're going to be okay."

There was a knock on the door before a nurse walked inside. "Oh, you're awake!" she chirped. "That's great news! I just came in here to give you some medicine. After that, you need some rest so it would be best if your brothers would leave for now to not risk getting pneumonia themselves."

"But he just woke up." Soda's eyebrows knitted together, not wanting to leave his brother's side during his recovery.

Darry placed a hand on Soda's shoulder. "As much as I don't want to go either, all of us getting the virus would make things worse," he said.

Ponyboy gave his brothers a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me," he croaked.

Reluctantly, Soda got up. "Get better soon, okay?" he asked.

"I'll try not to die."

"You better keep that promise or I'll skin you alive," Darry joked.

**o-o-o**

The time he spent in the hospital was extremely miserable for Ponyboy. He didn't see his brothers or the gang much because of the risk of the pneumonia spreading. Although he would have loved to see them, he knew it was for the best. He would feel really guilty if they caught the virus because of him.

It got better over time. Although, there were many times where he thought he was getting worse.

Even though he was on heavy antibiotics, it only gave him slight relief. Eventually, though, he started to feel practically brand new.

He woke up one morning, feeling awake and alert since he was no longer using all of his energy to heal. Ponyboy quickly got ready to leave, excited to finally be able to get out. He stood outside, taking in a long breath that he really needed. He stretched his limbs, fishing around in his pocket for his cigarette box. He pulled out a cigarette, examining it, before putting it back in the box. Maybe he should slow down on the smoking after all.


End file.
